Sequoia Coast [m] sun feathers

cen approached with the same assured calm. "you are hysterical because you are weak. you do not trust me, red leaf. but you trust too easily any other man who is not me." accusation and anger vied in his voice now; he closed the space between them and thrust his face closer.

"i see the way men look at you. i see the way you invite it. i am not a fool, red leaf." his voice was dangerous, quiet. "you do not know who he is. you do not understand how kindness is used. i protected you from the glacier, all the way across the lanzadoii land. and here. and now you speak and shout against me, your husband."

cen pointed toward the village. "go, wife. if you do not trust me then go. the chieftain does not have a wife. or perhaps he has many, and i can trade you as another."

his eyes were mocking. "go. i do not need a weak woman who questions me on the long march. if you believe yourself wiser than all i have said, red leaf, then leave these things to me and make your own way in the village."

alone, with nothing, days from delivering the children of another man — what a prize she would be, she and her mouths to feed. and cen; if he left, no one would provide for red leaf as he did. was hunger and life as a third wife or a warrior's ease-woman preferable to being with him? cen waited for her decision to be made.